


True love's kiss

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, fairy tale references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21887911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: When Jaime and Brienne are watching "Once upon a time", Jaime, the ultimate romantic, can't help gushing over it, whereas Brienne has a different opinion. An argument begins, leading to... something unexpected.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 12
Kudos: 125





	True love's kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This has been haunting me ever since I started watching "Once upon a time" and today, I just had to write and post it.  
> More sugary fluff. Enjoy and thank you for reading!

Snow White opened her eyes the very next second, smiling at Charming as if nothing had ever happened to her. All was well and everyone was happy again.

“True love’s kiss!” gushed Jaime. “Always the lifesaver.” Brienne couldn’t help being diverted by him instead of paying attention to the tender romance unfolding on the screen. Her best friend was ten times more handsome than that Prince Charming or any other pretty boy who appeared on that show. 

“Absolute nonsense,” she scoffed, snapping back to her senses when she returned to the syrupy scene. “I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to cultivate the patience for this,” she remarked, rolling her eyes at the way he was glued to the screen, mesmerised and completely taken in. “This stuff is meant for little girls.”

“Aww, just look at them,” he said, completely ignoring her and pointing at the happy couple smooching away again. “They are evidence that untainted love does exist and so does the famous true love’s kiss.”

“Yeah,” Brienne echoed, unable to hide the scorn in her tone, “only on such shows.”

Jaime paused the television and turned his attention to her. “Just because you aren’t a romantic doesn’t mean love and tenderness don’t exist, wench.”

All she had for him was a death-stare. He wanted a debate? So be it. She’d give him a good one. “Love, in the real world, is a lot different from the sugary sappiness in your beloved fairy tale, Jaime.”

“To an extent, maybe,” he shrugged, “but the essence still remains the same.”

“I don’t agree,” she vehemently countered. “Taking this show of yours into consideration, give me one example where the girl is plain as me,” she demanded, sick of the dainty little princesses she’d grown up watching and reading about. _Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder_ , she’d also been taught, then why were such cliches so rampant in most of the famous love stories? “It’s always the handsome prince falling for the _beautiful_ girl. Be it Snow White or Aurora or Jasmine or Belle--” 

“Fiona wasn’t a pretty princess,” Jaime bounced back with his defence, “and she married Shrek--”

“--who was an ogre himself, grumpy and ugly, and not a dashing knight in shining armour or a pretty boy,” she promptly highlighted, tearing apart his flawed example. “The ugly girl never gets to go home with the handsome guy. Even the ugly duckling ends up a pretty swan.” 

Brienne found herself exhaling fumes of rage for a silly reason as this. While only a bit of her frustration was fuelled by Jaime’s blind devotion to such love stories, a major chunk of her irritation had its roots in her own plight, her mental state, her more than friendly feelings for her handsome friend. Life wasn’t a fairy tale. Plain and mannish women like her never ended up with guys like Jaime. That she secretly pined for him, no doubt, was her problem, but a problem it definitely was, and one that frequently stole the sleep out of her eyes, leaving her thinking and dreaming about him more often than necessary. He was no more than an unattainable fantasy, she had concluded, to be tucked away safely in her heart, and that’s what he would always be to her. Reality was full of incompatible boyfriends and relationships that failed to take off, not a swoon-worthy waking up to true love’s kiss and enjoying a happily-ever-after in the arms of one’s lover.

“I do admit such pairs are not the norm,” Jaime agreed, “but that doesn’t mean they can’t happen.”

“Oh yeah?” Brienne demanded, rounding on him. “Speaking as someone who’s unattractive enough to repel even ordinary guys, such things only happen in distant dreams.”

He studied her face, scrutinizing her, reading her thoughts. “Renly was quite good looking. He and you--”

“Never happened,” she cut him off, not wanting to be reminded of the crush that ended up a disaster after Renly’s sexuality was out in the open.

“There were others too,” Jaime nudged her, “Ronnie, Ginger--”

“Ron dumped me after a blind date,” she revealed, telling him something she hadn’t confessed to anyone about, “because I was not woman enough for him, and Tormund--” she broke for a second to collect her senses “--was a complete nuisance, following me around, stalking me--”

“Are you saying you haven’t kissed any of these men?” he probed, showing an unusual intrigue in her love life.

“None of them,” she admitted, wondering why she was disclosing classified personal information to him. “Tormund, I wasn’t interested in, and the others weren’t interested in me. So, no. Your _perfect_ kiss is nothing but a myth,” she barked, “an imaginary concept.”

Jaime’s brows converged in surprise. “Haven’t you ever been kissed before, wench?”

“Well, I did kiss Hyle Hunt,” she recalled. _But that wasn’t love, and the kiss, far from perfect,_ she wanted to add, warmth gushing up her neck. _I never even knew the meaning of love before I met you, before the day you took a knife to your stomach to protect me from those goons._

Jaime shifted to her side. “Were you in love with him, Brienne?” he asked, his soulful eyes invading hers, churning up fresh agony in her chest.

“That’s none of your business,” she tried to put him off, her face on fire, her heart heavy with the weight of her feelings for him. Deciding it was best to get out of there and go home, she excused herself with a terse, “Bye, Jaime, I’ll see you on Monday,” and got up to leave.

“Wait,” he stopped her, and she obeyed, something in his tone calling out to her, forcing her to comply. “You can’t just run away from a discussion like this, so sit down, wench, and finish the conversation before you leave.”

She did as told, but her inherent stubborn nature compelled her to retaliate. “A stupid discussion this is, one I’d rather stay out of.”

Budging closer, he rested his arm on the back of the sofa, cornering her to the cushion on the side. “We were just talking about a TV show, Brienne,” he softly reminded her. “What did I do wrong to upset you this much?”

“There’s no point. You don’t understand,” she shouted, stupid tears blurring her vision, the smiling face of Snow White frozen on the screen, aggravating her distress. “You’ll never understand.”

He switched off the TV and leaned towards her. “Try me.”

“I hate this show,” she cried, her voice choked, latching on to the scapegoat for her helplessness, her real anguish. “I hate all such shows. An ugly woman like me can never get the guy. It exists only in the realms of fantasy and so does your ridiculous true love’s kiss.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken,” he argued again. “Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it’ll never happen. A perfect kiss is what you share with the one you love--”

“Yeah, I get it. You can stop harping on it,” she shot back, picturing him with his lovely girlfriend. “You and Cersei. Why the hell did you break up with her when everything was so rosy? You were an ideal match for each other, a power-couple--”

“Hyle Hunt,” he frowned, abruptly changing the subject, ignoring the reference to Cersei. Searching her eyes with doubt-ridden ones, he resumed his questioning. “You weren’t in love with him, were you?”

“No,” she replied, succumbing to his interrogation this time. “Unlike you, I haven’t been lucky, I’m never going to experience what you call the _perfect_ kiss.”

“Never say never, Brienne.” He came closer, his face mere inches from hers. “The perfect kiss is one which sets your heart aflutter before it even happens.”

“I--I don’t--” she began, but her throat dry, the words too seemed to have dried up in her head.

“--and makes you stutter,” he continued, brushing his mouth against her cheek.

_Gods, I really am trembling!_

Was this really happening? Was this a beautiful dream she might wake up from? His presence farther than a foot away from her was enough to get her all nervous and jittery, but this--this was downright terrifying and at the same time-- _exhilarating_?

His lips caressed the corner of her mouth and his hand was on her cheek, his fingers kissing their way to her neck. “Your heart rate shoots up to a million beats per second,” he whispered against her quivering lips. “Beads of perspiration dot your forehead, your palms dampen with sweat--" he trailed away, pressing his lips on hers, and she found herself falling… deep into his eyes, deeper in love with him, plunging into the chasm from which there would be no way back.

She wanted this so much! A hopeless romantic, she was, as much as any other woman, though she'd always carefully hidden that side of her. But her heart was now crying out to her, to be one with him and surrender, to let go and drift away with him, wherever he took her.

 _Reality isn't a bed of roses_ , the still functional part of her brain pointed out, bluntly telling her he deserved a beautiful woman, just like those young princes in the damn stories. This--this man could never be hers, they’d be a mismatched pair, a misfit for each other. Besides, Cersei was still around. Granted, he had separated from her, but they’d been off and on many times, and it wouldn’t be long before he ran back into her arms.

 _Is that a woman,_ was his condescending reaction, when he’d seen her for the first time. She was the ugly duckling and she’d always be one all her life, with no pretty-swan transformation to get her the guy she loved.

As for his kiss, it had to be no more than a momentary impulsive lapse on his part.

“Stop it,” she cried, mustering all her will power to push him away before it was too late. “Stop this at once.”

Shocked, he withdrew, opening his mouth to speak, but she refused to let him.

“Have you forgotten the way you’ve mocked me?” she blasted him, memories of the insults he'd pelted her with returning to torment her. “Big Brienne, you had once called me, and an ugly beast--”

“Brienne, that was all in the past,” he explained, eyes guilty and full of remorse. “We couldn’t stand each other then. For what it’s worth, I apologize for everything I said earlier--”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re like that fairy tale prince,” she went on with her assault, “and a princess is what you’re destined to end up with, like Cersei--”

“I’m not with Cersei anymore, you know that--”

“I also know that it won’t be for long,” she shouted, tears threatening to fill her eyes again. “Petty lovers’ squabbles, they might be, and soon you’ll patch up with her, go running into her arms.” She blinked back the tears. “All this flirting and playfulness you’ve been engaging in with me... there’s a limit to a joke--”

“Joke?” he shouted over her voice, forcing her to listen, hurt and disappointment in his eyes. “Laughing with you, flirting, trying to get your attention - you think all that was a joke?”

“Yes!” His flaring up at her accusation gave her a bit of hope, but she’d burnt her fingers before with other men, so this time, she decided to be prudent enough to be practical. “You don’t know how much your flirting bothers me--”

“Bothers you?” he interrupted, his indignation buried under the cover of curiosity. “In a good way or bad?”

Flustered, she couldn’t hide her confusion. “What does that even mean?”

His eyes softened when he drew closer again, intense, impassioned, soulful and -- maybe a hint that he too... But she couldn’t jump into conclusions that might not be. She didn’t dare.

“You’re jealous of Cersei,” he correctly deduced, breathing into her face again, “and burning from within. Why?”

Her pulse quickened. Had he managed to look into her heart? Read her mind? How would he react if he happened to find out the full extent of her feelings? “Because I--” she almost blurted out the truth, but held back at the right moment, unwilling to make a fool of herself.

“Yes, Brienne?” he coaxed her to go on, his voice, smooth as silk and seductive as hell.

“You won’t understand,” she softly lamented, still hesitant to open up, her apprehension preventing her from going beyond that.

“Try me,” he insisted, green eyes imploring her to believe him. “And remember one thing, Brienne,” he added, tilting his face to hers. “Every woman is beautiful--” he paused abruptly, his mouth just shy of hers, her heart racing like mad “--in the eyes of the man who loves her.” 

He didn’t let her react, nor did he let her breathe for the next few seconds, his hands in her hair and his mouth on hers. This felt real. He was real, not a fairy tale dream, his lips, his touch, his breath, the fire in him - _everything_... Dazed for a moment, she grabbed his shoulders, but immediately fell into rhythm with him, her hand sliding to his chest, getting a feel of his firm muscles, her fingers breaching the boundaries of his shirt.

He kissed her like she’d never been kissed before, leaving Hyle and every other man she’d kissed before him severely lacking. His mouth, coupled with the way his hand glided down her arm, was too much for her to take. Too good to be true, he was, and so gloriously heavenly, that she whimpered, losing herself in his arms, floating on a cloud of bliss, her senses beyond her control and completely in his. Encouraged by the little sound that left her mouth, he pinned her to the cushions and deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entry, demanding her cooperation. His left hand rested on her cheek, stroking her, caressing her, while the other roamed all over her body, touching her, feeling her, leaving her helpless and desperately aroused and oh-so-hopelessly in love. 

For a few amazingly wonderful seconds, she felt like a Disney princess, and Jaime, her Prince Charming, her knight in shining armour who had, not many days back, rescued her from the villains.

“This,” he gasped, his chest heaving when he pulled away to breathe, “was what I was talking about earlier, wench. True love’s kiss or perfect kiss or whatever else you want to call it, a kiss from the one who--”

“But Cersei,” she stopped him before he could finish, the pretty face refusing to leave her head, “isn’t she--”

“ _You_ ,” he whispered, silencing all her doubts and inhibitions with this one word and another searing kiss. 

  
  



End file.
